Yes, yes, here we are again
The experiment of myself
You're in our heart, you're in our mind
You're the star that will always shine
Forever you'll be with me
You ever see the inner depths of a man's soul?
Or Ninja Turtles pouring out of manholes?
It's this balance
Between the comic and the conscious that's the challenge
Between the solitary and the conference that I examines
That I imagined once a figure
Would be the start of world peace and the transformation of niggas
Like the transubstantiation of liquor
But that's just turning them into blood
And we'll be right back where we was
Not a peace sign but a fascination with scissors
So I can cut
Myself off from the calculations of empress empires
And the centers for advancement of human suffering
And other things trying to impede my publishing
The editorials that's gon' bring it back to us again
A boomerang minus Halle Berry and
Eddie and everybody fucking there, huh?
You're in our heart, you're in our mind
You're the star that will always shine
Forever you'll be with me
Shotgun
Even though independent cause ain't got one
I got some and more to spare
No more despair
My motor wear don't match my motivate to make
Also my drive to stay alive and ride is over there
My momma so mad so no alcohol in here
I'm Aries Spears on my Jay-Z shit
Affion on a Drake skit
Now how many more can I make with
Just one voice? They might call that fake shit
This some deep shit
It's my me impersonating we shit
Vicariously in every rap I speak with
I hope you speaking for me if I'm ever speechless
Cause I'ma be you
Even though you not here to be with
I hope I see these gangstas acting like teachers
Wake up out they sleep, they're the dream
In a world so Martin Luther King-less, huh?
You're in our heart, you're in our mind
You're the star that will always shine
Forever you'll be with me
You're in our heart, you're in our mind
You're the star that will always shine
Forever you'll be with me
Yeah
And to my hero, Heron
Gil Scott, yeah
In a discourse with Baldwin
On a jet plane with no fear of it falling
But wishing it never lands
Reminiscent of the Dreamtime
Presently en route to the Rise of the Machine time
Magazine times
My coffee more sugar and milk than coffee
Aborted rhymes, rotten beats and failed hooks
Roads as bumpy as Braille books
Failed coups, bad French and a mad push for the door
Gourmet food at the star of the soiree
A choice of one easy woman at a time
I'll take three the hard way
Trying to be as abstract as possible
And vulgar, the more shocking, the more profitable
A baby fed molten gold
And set upon a pedestal at the MoCA and called 24 Karats of Soul
How else to describe this
But insightful remarks such as
"The best thing I've ever heard was silence"
Or something more technically impressive
In a faux Spanish Romantic with hues of a Marxist dialectic
Pleasing to the critics but pointless to the common passerby
Might as well not even exist, not even a bit
In the event of my demise, give everything I prize to the poor
And to the oppressors, I'll leave a war
And so on and so forth
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